


cold hands burn easily

by coveredinsun



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Mako Week 2020, but its not the focus, i wasnt actually gonna publish this. but u know its, maybe wu is ooc. sue me, so i’ll make an exception!, this has been in my google docs for a shameful amount of time, with some wuko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinsun/pseuds/coveredinsun
Summary: Mako’s eyes fell to Yue Bay, shining in the last moments of moonlight. As he watched the tangerine sunrise he thought of Naoki; the way she’d say that the sun would always be a part of him. It only made sense that she’s part of it now, in there somewhere, giving him strength when he can’t do that himself.“I remember you saying something about Yue Bay. I thought maybe it would cheer you up.” Wu mumbled. Mako couldn’t bother to tear his gaze away from the sight before him.It’s been thirteen years since Mako has been able to grasp and hold this feeling. Carefully he held that memory. Tight enough for it to feel present, tight enough so he could believe for just a fucking second that things were the same as they used to be.
Relationships: Bolin & Mako (Avatar), Mako & Naoki (Avatar), Mako/Prince Wu (Avatar)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	cold hands burn easily

**Author's Note:**

> no beta we die like hou-ting!!!!
> 
> also warning for (barely) graphic description of ming-hua’s canon death

Mako had reached a new, unfathomable level of bored. The one where you couldn’t possibly think about anything other than how agonizingly bored you are. And maybe how uncomfortable your shoes are.

Mako would have quit this bodyguarding gig if not for the three years of a steady job he’d been promised. Apparently the prince of the Earth Kingdom had asked for _him specifically,_ but he hadn’t been working long enough with him to figure out why. (Or _how_ they found him, either. Even if there _was_ a spot in the daily paper for probenders-turned-detectives who wanted to bring it down five notches and be a bodyguard for one of the most insufferable people on the planet, Mako did not sign up.)

There wasn’t anything interesting happening in that moment. Prince Wu had been chatting up some Earth Kingdom nobles at a ‘banquet’ that looked and felt suspiciously similar to a press conference. But those were not uncommon, because the prince seemingly would fall ill if he wasn’t bathed in the light of the camera flashes. 

Mako could deal with that. He could deal with the horribly ugly uniform he had to wear; he’s worn much worse things and grey is his color anyway. He could deal with closely following Wu as he moved from spot to spot (which was very often) and then idly staring out somewhere in front of him until Wu inevitably moved somewhere else.

But what he could _not_ deal with was just… the prince. The arrogant tone he spoke in, the wild flailing of his hands, and the constant touching. That was the worst part; nobody should lean on their bodyguard nearly as much as Wu did. But Mako just had to suck it up. He knew how to do _that_ just fine. So that’s exactly what he did– instead of receiving a headache from listening to everything Wu said, he learned in just a couple short months that mostly tuning out Wu’s awkward rambles was in his best interest. 

Despite that, one comment stood out from the rest. These Earth Kingdom nobles did not seem the least bit entertained; but that did not deter Wu. (If he noticed, that is. There’s a surprisingly high chance he didn’t take the hint at all.)

“Oh, you know me! Always getting into trouble!” Wu nudged his current victim with his elbow, “Good thing I got this cool firebender by my side!”

Silence. Judgmental silence in its purest form.

“Get it? Firebender? _Cool?_ Up top!”

Wu did not receive the high five he was looking for.

Mako normally would have found the lack of reaction funny– Wu’s over-the-top, awkward behavior was _always_ a source of low-effort entertainment– but right now he didn’t. Instead there was only a sinking feeling in his chest. One he knew all too well. 

He didn’t want to acknowledge it at that moment, not with other people around. So he pushed it down. Deal with it later, or never (he preferred the latter, despite how much Bolin scolded him). He clenched his fists, untucked his thumbs and raised his chin, corrected his posture before checking if the prince was in his line of sight. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They returned to their hotel room, one with a mini kitchen _and_ living area _separate_ from the main bedroom, divided by just a thin door. Mako had been working for Wu long enough– well over half a year now– to know that its multiple rooms actually made it a _suite_. 

Mako didn’t know enough about luxury hotels to dispute that logic. Still, he felt that calling it a _suite_ was too prestigious for him. Didn’t feel right.

Why Wu asked for a hotel room with his _bodyguard_ was a complete mystery to him. But it was above his pay grade to ask, so he didn’t. Immediately Mako went to his bed, and Wu went to… the kitchen? This late at night? He didn’t want to know.

“Hey, Mako!” Wu called. “Want to come help me with this?”

Mako did not attempt to hide his disinterest. “No.”

“Ugh! Come on, I need to heat something up!” Wu complained. “Firebenders do it so much faster.”

There it was. That sinking feeling. Again. “No.”

Wu had probably rolled his eyes from the other room, but Mako just couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered. (Not that he would be bothered anyway. Why would he possibly be bothered by what Wu thought?)

Falling asleep was difficult whenever Wu cooked anything. Mako could never recognize the aroma, but nevertheless did they always smell good. Wu didn’t cook for himself very often, prince and all, but whenever he did it was always impressive. Wu paid dangerously close attention to technique as a byproduct of whatever royal etiquette code he was required to adhere to.

If nothing else, it was endearing to see Wu enthusiastically perform such a mundane task. Mako wasn’t the greatest at cooking– he _survived_ , after all, so he couldn’t have been _terrible,_ but Bolin always liked saving up for months and months to go out somewhere cheap. Which was fair. 

Mako had been in the middle of a thought when it was interrupted by the feeling of Wu’s hands in his. (And lots of idle chatter, but that wasn’t important.)

Wu’s hands were cold, but that didn’t mean much to Mako. He’d figured out years ago that _everyone’s_ hands were cold to a firebender. 

Firebenders were discovered earliest out of necessity; traditionally, there were a series of tests designed to confirm your child as one. 

(Mako’s mother would always tell him and Bolin stories about unfortunate Fire Nation parents who’d refuse to do those tests and learn about their toddlers’ abilities _the hard way._ Bolin found the stories funny, as they were intended. Mako did, too.) 

Mako never did any of those tests. It’s not like he ever needed them, anyway– Naoki could tell him over and over and _over_ again how she knew her son was a firebender, because he had that spark in his eyes. 

Instead he’d punch flames at the sky and his little brother would observe, his face locked in wonder as if witnessing the grace of Agni in the flesh.

Or he’d set some grass on fire in the park, and his mother would jokingly scold him while his father chuckled along.

Or he’d singe the hem of his coat, and instead of a scold and a chuckle he’d get a lecture about control or whatever (which seemed pretty insincere coming from his mother who couldn’t firebend, but he’d never say that).

Or he’d beg his parents to watch him do a new move he taught himself, and his whole family would line up to watch with enthusiasm.

Or he’d ask his mother to take him to see the sunrise, and he’d wake up at the crack of dawn to go down to Yue Bay, just to feel the warmth of a fresh sun, just to hear his mother remind him that he drew his power from it. That the sun never truly hid itself, and neither should he. 

Or he’d take his mother’s hand and ask why it was alarmingly cold. 

**_Cold hands are a good sign,_** Naoki had told him, **_because it means all that warmth is in their heart instead._**

But now Naoki is dead– at the hands of a firebender. Cruel irony, if nothing else. 

If there was anything Mako had learned since he had seen San and Naoki’s scorched, lifeless bodies, it was this: cold hands burn easily.

He knew it years ago, when he was fifteen and accidentally burned Bolin’s wrist and had nothing to help him ease the pain of it. (Bolin insisted it didn’t hurt that bad, but he was just taking advantage of the fact that his firebender brother didn’t know the feeling of being burned.)

He knew it years ago, when he was nineteen and saw lightning pulse through that poor woman’s body, heard her wretched scream before her body fell to the floor with a thump. 

In that moment he thought back to Naoki and San. They were killed by fire, and Mako may as well have been the one to do it. 

Mako knew it then, and he knew it now: _cold hands burn easily._

And yet Wu took the hands of a firebender into his own, unafraid of being scorched. It was then Mako could finally believe what Naoki had told him. 

At first Mako panicked and quickly retracted his hands. Mako has had very good control over his firebending for a long time now, and would definitely need to make a conscious effort if he wanted to burn Wu.

But then Wu looked at him, a mix of confusion and concern written on his face, and he just couldn’t refuse it. Maybe the world slowed down, or maybe it completely stopped, or maybe it kept on spinning when Wu took his hands again. Mako would know none the wiser.

And it was weird and pretty awkward, honestly, but Mako was _reeling._ Apparently he _did_ have that ability, because he couldn’t even remember what Wu was trying to get him to do. All he wanted was for this man to stand close to him like it was second nature. And he wanted to stay there.

After nearly ten minutes of having to constantly refocus on the task at hand, Mako just returned to his bed and stared at the ceiling for an amount of time Bolin would undoubtedly scold him for. 

Maybe it had been in the back of his mind before then, but it was clear now: keeping Wu safe wasn’t just a job requirement, but something Mako _wanted_ to do.

He couldn’t be certain that he could keep Wu safe, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


If anyone else said a word to Mako, he couldn’t guarantee that he wasn’t going to deck them right there. Thankfully, him and Wu were being driven back to their hotel for the night.

Wu had been attempting to get Mako to say something, for reasons he would never know. Mako only looked at Wu for a second to let him know he heard him, then returned his focus to the window. After a few times Wu took the hint and stopped. Then they walked up to their suite in silence. 

When they reached the door, Wu stepped up to unlock it. He reached into his pocket for the key, but it wasn’t there. Frantically be reached into every pocket of his (there were many more than meets the eye) before turning to Mako. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have the key, would you?”

Mako only huffed out a groan and pushed past Wu. He found the key in his own pocket and unlocked the door. He didn’t bother to wait for Wu before speeding over to his own bed. It was dramatic and a little silly to look at, but he would be lying if he claimed to give even a _tiny_ _bit_ of a fuck. 

Wu entered and closed the door behind him. Slowly he made his way towards the other man, who at this point was sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at the floor. “Hey! Uh, you… okay there?” 

Mako snapped his head up. “What? Yeah. Of course I am. Why?”

“The alarmingly warm doorknob gave me a hint. Only happens when you’re angry, you know.”

“The– huh?” It threw Mako off, because he never noticed that. But Wu _had,_ so that meant it happened often, and it was obvious enough for Wu (the king of obliviousness) to notice.

“Nevermind!” Wu backtracked, “Forget I said anything about that. But I’d still like to know if you’re okay.”

“Did you hear me? I already said yes.” 

Wu put his hands up in surrender. Even the most oblivious person in the world could take _that_ hint. 

Mako spent a lot of time staring into the dark that night. Once or twice he’d conjure up a tiny flame at the end of his fingers, but immediately let it go. He didn’t want to hold it. He’s _never_ wanted to hold it.

But he has to, for his brother. Suck it up and move on.

It’s been thirteen years since Mako saw his parents dead at the hands of a firebender. For all thirteen of those long, long years, he would be lying if he told you he didn’t wish to be an earthbender. 

It’s been nine years since he learned how to generate lightning, nine years since he used it on a job and refused to tell his brother where he got the money for dinner from.

It’s been six years since he told his brother how their parents died. Or rather, _who_ killed them. Bolin gave him a knowing look, one of concern far beyond his years. He hated that look. 

It’s been four years since he first stepped into the pro-bending ring. It’s been four years since he first put on the uniform that marked him by element, four years since the crowds all applauded him for using the thing he would trade off in seconds if given the chance.

It’s been two years since he escaped the crystal caves, two years since he made that unfortunate woman suffer in her last few moments. Two years since he’s thought about mentioning to someone how brutally he killed her.

(He never went through with mentioning it.)

For thirteen years he’s held the sun in his palms; get too close and you’ll burn up. For thirteen years he’s felt that sinking in his chest, the dreaded feeling that everything he touches will turn to ash. 

Eventually he fell asleep. He didn’t know when; it could have been midnight or four hours past that and he wouldn’t know the difference. 

All he knew is that he woke up to somebody gently shaking him. Immediately he sat up, ready for a fight. 

“Woah, hold on, big guy!” Wu took a step back. “I was just trying to wake you up.”

After quickly surveying the room and arriving at the conclusion that yes, it actually _was_ just Wu, he lied back down with a groan. “What do you want?”

“Well, I just thought…” Wu searched for the right words, then shook his head and continued, “Hm. You should just come with me.”

“What? Wu, It’s still dark out. What time even _is it?”_

“Oh! Five-thirty in the morning!” 

Mako pulled his pillow over his face. “What the fuck, Wu?”

“I had an idea! I wanted to cheer you up, but if you don’t want to see it you don’t have to.” 

Mako sighed. Any hope of falling back asleep was lost now, so he might as well play along. “Fine. Give me five minutes.”

[...]

“Why are we going up so many flights of stairs?” Mako grumbled. “We could have just taken the elevator.”

“The elevator won’t get us to where we’re going! This is the last flight anyway. After you get up those last ones, close your eyes.”

Mako rolled his eyes once more and stepped up the final four steps. Then he closed his eyes, because he didn’t want to hear Wu complain about him not doing so. 

Without warning Wu took his hand (though it was more like his wrist) and continued to walk. He did it so casually, so easily and without hesitation, that Mako thought maybe he was going crazy given the number of thoughts running through his head. If he covered his eyes with his hand to cover the blush that was _definitely not there,_ that was nobody’s business. 

And if Mako was too busy hoping his hand would slip– so he could relive that moment when Wu tried again– that was nobody’s business either. 

Before he had any idea of it, they had reached their destination. “Okay! Open your eyes.”

They were on… the roof. Okay. It was cold but pleasant. Mako appreciated the crispness of cold air when he wasn’t preoccupied with not freezing to death. He took a few steps to the edge of the roof. The Republic City skyline always looked nice at night, though this was much higher up than he’s ever gotten the chance to take in.

Mako’s eyes fell to Yue Bay, shining in the last moments of moonlight. As he watched the tangerine sunrise he thought of Naoki; the way she’d say that the sun would always be a part of him. It only made sense that she’s part of it now, in there _somewhere,_ giving him strength when he can’t do that himself. 

“I remember you saying something about Yue Bay. I thought maybe it would cheer you up.” Wu mumbled. Mako couldn’t bother to tear his gaze away from the sight before him. 

It’s been thirteen years since Mako has been able to grasp and _hold_ this feeling. Carefully he held that memory. Tight enough for it to feel present, tight enough so he could believe for just a fucking second that things were the same as they used to be. 

Maybe he muttered some thanks or maybe he didn’t. He wasn’t sure. If this were ten years ago this could have brought him to tears. But he was not the same now. He thought for a second– as he has many times before– if his mother would approve of him now, so closed off and toughened. He never really found a satisfying answer. All he could do was find solace in the fact that he did it for his brother.

Eventually he sat on the edge of the building, to get inches closer to the sun as it rose over the bay, much to Wu’s concern. Mako didn’t say a word, just gazed at the sight. 

Wu was standing next to him by the end of the sunrise, unwilling to interrupt this moment. 

The first word to come from Mako was, “Why?”

Wu looked confused. “I thought you needed cheering up. It worked, didn’t it?”

“You didn’t have to do this, y’know. I would’ve been fine.” 

“Are you sure?” No response. Mako only continued looking forward. “Well, whatever, that doesn’t matter. You can still talk. I’m actually a very good listener.” 

Mako couldn’t help himself from laughing at the irony. If there was _anything_ to be known about Wu, it was that the man couldn’t shut up. 

“Hey! It’s true!” Wu insisted. “I was just silent for, like, an hour! That’s gotta be a record for me.”

He had a point. 

Apparently he wasn’t done because then he continued, “All I’m saying is that big tough guy doesn’t need to be big and tough all the time, okay?” 

Despite a protest waiting to be spoken into existence, it never was. “Okay.” 

**Author's Note:**

> mako week made me publish this. i haven’t actually looked at this in like 5 weeks, so..... yeah. it’s rough i know


End file.
